Today is my grandson, Tyson's, birthday and he's reached the grand old age of 24. I can still picture him as a toddler gibbering as though he was really talking..I think he believed he was. He was the happiest, best natured baby I ever saw. I really don't remember him ever crying but he probably did.
I looked after him and his brother and sister for a couple of days a week when they were little. I always considered that the best spent time in my life because it gave me so much contact with my grandchildren. You can never take that away.
All three children were so well behaved that it was an easy day for me but the constant lifting of three little bodies under the age of 3 was hard on me and I'd go home tired out. Tyson, being the oldest, was the natural leader of his siblings and I remember one day when he was maybe 5 and had just discovered that his 4 year old brother had pulled the dog's tail. He stood above Kyle, very stern and looking for all the world like a parent, and quietly asked him how he could have done such a thing. Kyle, downcast and repentant, was thoroughly ashamed that he'd disappointed his brother. It's a sweet and memorable scene that I'll carry in my mind forever.
I've always taken my grandchildren out for lunch or dinner on their birthdays but Tyson has been away at university for 4 years so that's fallen away. He comes home for good this weekend and I'm so hoping we can resurrect that tradition. Tyson is my philosopher grandchild and my memories of dinners with him are filled with interesting and deep conversations which helped me know him better. He's a wonderful grandson and I love him dearly. I hope he always knows that.
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